the cloister of breathing
the only thing
I take refuge in now
dried leaves on sidewalk
dirt between cracks, a cigarette butt
I know its much more impossible for you
where there is no recourse
from the ugly words, the threats, the fists
between a rock
and a rock
and a leap of faith
that feels more like
a leap from a fifth-floor apartment
but take Her hand
that breathing might be
an oasis in the burning forest
believe me, soon
there will be ashes around you
grotesque, yes, but quiet
now-cathedral
future-glimmer
past, fuel and fertilizer
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